


Cake for Breakfast

by merryfortune



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! VRAINS
Genre: Canon Divergent, Domestic, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Post canon, Selectively Mute Spectre (Yu-Gi-Oh!), bed sharing, selective mutism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:33:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23904691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merryfortune/pseuds/merryfortune
Summary: Yusaku comes around to the mansion for a homecooked dinner and a sleepover.
Relationships: Fujiki Yuusaku/Revolver | Kougami Ryouken/Spectre
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8





	Cake for Breakfast

Yusaku’s phone buzzed and for a moment, he was all too thankful so, from behind his various study materials, he quickly reached for it and picked it up. He all too easily slid the lock across, and he was taken directly into a phone call.

“Hey, Yusaku,” the speaker began, and rather cheerily at that; the speaker was Ryoken, Yusaku realised from those few words alone, “I know you’re up to your up to your neck in assessments, but would you be interested in coming around for dinner? Please? You need to relax, and Spectre and I would like to help with that.”

Yusaku smiled. He liked the feeling of someone wanting to take care of him like that. So, he sighed. Conceded. After all, he had been yearning for a break the moment that he picked up his history textbook to reread all of it and that had been quite some time ago now and he had barely broken through the third of nine chapters.

“Yeah. Sounds good.” Yusaku replied.

“So, what’re you in the mood for?” Ryoken asked. “Spectre’s been itching to cook you a meal since this whole thing started.”

“Oh, um… nothing too extravagant, I guess. Honey chicken with fried rice, maybe? I like capsicum so I’d like capsicum in it.”

“Ooh, honey chicken does sound good but Spectre’s baking a cake for tonight as well. He got a good crop of strawberries a couple days ago from his greenhouse so he’s trying to use them up before they go bad. So, honey chicken might be a bit too much with the dessert that he’s making.” Ryoken replied.

“Yeah, that’s fine. I’m not really a sweets person… But I mean, cake sounds fine. Good. But um, how does black bean chicken sound? I’m kind of stuck on the fried rice still.” Yusaku replied.

“We’ll have black bean beef then.” Ryoken said.

“What? Why?” Yusaku exclaimed.

“Because I can tell your penny pinching. Let me and Spectre treat you, please, Yusaku.” Ryoken said.

“Fine.” Yusaku relented because it was true. He might like the idea of people checking in on him to make sure that he wasn’t overworking himself, but he still loathed the idea of people spending money on him or going too far with their charity no matter if it was motivated by friendship or romance.

“But don’t worry. You’ll get your fried rice with capsicum.” Ryoken replied and Yusaku could hear him roll his eyes.

“Thanks.” Yusaku replied. “So, what time should I come around?”

“Six, maybe? It should still be plenty light out. But I’m happy to come around and pick you up. It’s date night, after all. It’d be the gentlemanly thing to do.” Ryoken said.

“I’ll be right, thank you.” Yusaku sounded awkward in his reply.

“Also, maybe bring pyjamas, a toothbrush, that sort of thing. Let’s make tonight your first sleepover at our place.” Ryoken said and he sounded all too confident in himself.

Yusaku swallowed. His heart skipped a beat. Things had been weird to say the least. Always had and likely always will. After all, this was a three-person relationship and it was one founded on the fact that they had spent more time in a reluctant alliance rather than anything else and the transition hadn’t exactly been quick or accommodating. They had gone from strangers to enemies to allies and somehow to lovers. It was all too dizzying for Yusaku as the years turned to weeks and the weeks to days which brought them over the span of ten years. Not to mention, he was the interloper as Ryoken and Spectre had gone from strangers to friends to lovers with comrades tacked on somewhere in between long before he had returned to the picture, even as Unknown or as Playmaker.

Still, he was partially excited. This was, more or less, what he had wanted for so long. To have Ryoken, his Special Person, in his life and to have the other members of the Lost Incident in it too. Sure, Spectre may not have been what he was expecting but Yusaku was grateful nonetheless and he didn’t want to disrupt anything. Change things, yes, but not tear them down or otherwise. Besides, Yusaku had known that he had caught Spectre’s eye long before the Ai and Roboppy debacle had even begun thanks to his bizarre spiels during Spectre’s duel with Lightning.

“Alright.” Yusaku replied. “I’ll bring an overnight bag then.”

“And I know that you’re having a break from studying, one I will enforce, mind you, but if you want to bring your study materials with you, fine. Spectre and I were home schooled, but surely we can help.” Ryoken said.

“That sounds really good, Ryoken, thank you.” Yusaku said.

“See you at six then.” Ryoken said, his breath lingering between them.

“I’m looking forward to it. See you at six. Bye.” Yusaku replied.

Ryoken paused fondly. “Yeah, bye.”

He hung up and Yusaku smiled to himself. He returned his phone to where it belonged – just out of reach – and then took a drink of his water bottle. As he did so, Ai rose out of his Duel Disc.

“Oooh, planning a date night with the boyfies?” Ai cooed.

Yusaku blushed. “Yes, actually.”

“Cute. And, uh, from the sounds of things, I didn’t get invited?” Ai asked.

“Er, didn’t think to ask…” Yusaku replied.

“Yeah, I can tell. I heard the whole thing, genius.” Ai scoffed.

“But from the sounds of it, no.” Yusaku said.

“Damn. My partner goes and gets himself two boyfriends and suddenly I’m chopped liver.” Ai complained.

“I’m sorry.” Yusaku said. “I should’ve said something.”

“It’s fine. I’m sure Earth’s been booted as well.” Ai sighed.

“Hopefully, now that you mention it.” Yusaku said.

“Gosh, your even cruel to poor Earth…” Ai teased, folding his arms.

Yusaku made something of a pained expression. He knew that Ai was just jerking him around, but his first instinct wasn’t to take it as a joke, like he realistically knew that it was, but rather as a need to be concerned.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” he said. He scratched behind his head and looked away.

“I know, I know.” Ai said and he threw his hands up. “Still, have fun tonight.”

“Thank you.” Yusaku smiled.

“Not too much fun though.” Ai added.

Yusaku was scandalised by the reply and froze. He blushed slightly. The first time Ai had used that innuendo on him, he had missed it completely and copped a fair bit of teasing from him for it as he had innocently misunderstood Ai’s intention as being something else. Still, Ai found his embarrassed silence amusing and chuckled to himself.

“Don’t worry, Roboppy and Ai shall not get up to too much fun either.” Ai said, assuring adjacent after his giggles had petered out.

“Good.” Yusaku said, a touch too firm.

“But c’mon, keep studying. You’ve still got too much time between now and then to spend on thinking about boys.” Ai said.

“I know, I know.” Yusaku said as he picked up his book again.

Ai, in the meantime, settled down. He sank back down into Yusaku’s Duel Disc, either to have a nap or discretely return to the defunct areas of the Link VRAINS which had been converted into a safe haven for the Ignis to govern akin to their previous home of the Cyberse World. Either way, Yusaku was somewhat certain that Ai was content to leave him be until it drew in closer to six.

Though, studying after receiving Ryoken’s phone call proved more difficult than Yusaku thought. He was excited and he was the type to rarely be excited. Or at least he thought he was. More and more frequently as of late, he was stepping outside of his comfort zone and finding all sorts of things to be mutably happy or excited for. Thus, his mind kept drifting. Yusaku was curious as to what sort of cook Spectre was. He hoped that, at the very least, Spectre was a capable of cook. Part of him feared that food presented by Spectre might, for whatever reason, taste like dirt. Still, Yusaku was endeared by the fact that Ryoken had mentioned that Spectre had been looking forward to preparing a meal for Yusaku. So, he looked forward to his dinner of black bean beef and fried rice with Ryoken and Spectre.

Thoughts of food kept Yusaku more preoccupied than thoughts of dates and events. They even continued through to his mathematics studying and other subjects as well. Yusaku didn’t even consider himself a gluttonous person but it likely helped that his microwavable dinner from the supermarket shelf paled considerably in comparison to the glamorous idea of a homecooked meal made by someone who loves him.

Eventually, he was put out of his misery when the clock on his tablet finally read five o’clock and Yusaku felt permitted to start getting ready for his date night. He put himself through the shower as he had reasonable fears regarding using an unknown shower – and a rich people’s one at that. When he came out, he grabbed his toiletries and slung them in a canvas bag. He grabbed his pyjamas and stuffed them in the bag as well and then felt weird because he felt like he was bringing too little so, to be on the safe side, he grabbed his pillow as well. After that, Yusaku checked the clock and it was just after five-thirty which felt like an acceptable time to leave.

He picked up his Duel Disc from his desk and disturbed Ai. Ai grinned an Ignis grin – all eyes and no mouth but more glee than what ought to be possible – when he realised that Yusaku was on his way out. His hands clasped together and began to fawn about how his Yusaku was growing up so fast. Something which bemused Yusaku immensely but fortunately, the trip downstairs wasn’t too long and Yusaku set Ai down on the coffee table.

“You’ll be right for the night with Roboppy, yes?” Yusaku asked as his hand clamped onto the strap of his bag a little tighter.

“Yes, yes, we’ll have a very fun movie night.” Ai said.

“That sounds good. Enjoy yourself.” Yusaku replied.

“You as well. Having fun… mashing food in your mouth… swallowing it… letting it turn to mush in the acid pit you call a stomach. What’s not to love?” Ai teased.

“Yeah. And especially when you put it that way.” Yusaku made a mildly revolted expression which amused Ai greatly.

“Well, tata now, see you in the morning.” Ai said and he flapped his hand about tremendously in dramatic farewell before coming to a sudden halt. “Unless you need rescuing because I hear it’s not uncommon for children on their first sleepover to come home abruptly.”

“Please. Shut up. I’m not a child. I’ll be fine.” Yusaku groaned.

Ai deflated. “I know. But in all seriousness, have a good night.”

“Thanks.” Yusaku smiled. “See you in the morning; have a good movie night with Roboppy then.”

“I will.” Ai replied.

And with that, they parted ways. Ai began to browse through options with Roboppy regarding what could be perused and Yusaku hefted his bag over his shoulder, subconsciously checking that it was secured and that he had everything. All in all, it felt like a rather average evening for him. Though, Yusaku was a touch more appreciative of the natural views than he may have normally been.

When he stopped to consider it, it really was a wonderful evening. The sky burned in handsome, crisp oranges against soft, fluffy violets. The clouds hung low and he thought that rain might be welcome as refreshing as it was pleasantly balmy at the moment. He suspected though that if it did rain, it would like rain sometime after midnight but before the next morning. Still, he liked that sort of feel in the air and in the wind.

It made his walk to the other precinct which was closer to the sea, and therefore Ryoken and Spectre’s place, rather nice. It left him in a good mood, even if he could feel the wear and tear in his joggers underfoot. He arrived with a placid smile on his face though and only a little bit out of breath because the incline upwards to their front door was quite big.

“I’m here.” Yusaku called out and he knocked on the white door frame of the mansion.

The mansion was still recovering from being essentially abandoned for a few months, he noticed. Paint had greyed, there was still spates of dust across beams, and other little things. Though, the garden was immaculate and that hid any of the little things which might have made the mansion seem disreputable rather than a grand flaunt of wealth.

The door opened and Ryoken was the one to greet him, “Come in.” He smiled charmingly as he let Yusaku inside.

Yusaku had visited only a couple of times before. It was only natural to have visited as both his boyfriends lived here but it had yet to stop being daunting. He stepped inside and it still felt like the first time. To match the outside, the inside was just as equally glamourous as the outside. It seemed directly lifted from a high-end architecture magazine and was then never properly socialised to be a house for a family, even as family as unconventional as Ryoken and his carers. So, Yusaku felt awkward as he hovered in the drawing room, facing down a pristine mirror which reflected himself and Ryoken back to him. He felt like just by standing here, he was going to track some non-existent mud through.

“Spectre’s just checking on the rice, don’t want it soggy… It’s always the way, isn’t it? The moment you get busy, company arrives and so, you delay.” Ryoken said, trying to ease the nervous tension between him and Yusaku.

It is too little wonder that they usually met in more socially neutral places. The plaza, the Stardust Road, parks, and the like… Everything else felt far too personal as they were trying to integrate themselves into each other’s lives without being at each other’s throats as enemies. Still, Yusaku flashed Ryoken another smile.

“Should I put my bag away somewhere?” he asked, his fingers tightening their coil around the straps.

Ryoken blinked. “Yeah, good idea. The master bedroom should be fine, yes? That’s where your sleeping tonight after all. Hopefully.”

“Too easy then.” Yusaku replied with a blush going through his cheeks.

“I’ll meet you in the kitchen then.” Ryoken said.

Yusaku nodded and he swallowed a lump in his throat. Ryoken lingered in the hallway whilst Yusaku awkwardly as possible proved that he did know which way the master bedroom was. The door had been left ajar and Yusaku entered, feeling like a trespasser but he simply put down his bag by the doorframe, in front of the floor length mirror and he took a quick glance around.

The master bedroom, it felt to Yusaku, was one of the rare parts of the mansion which didn’t have that photographic, magazine quality to it. It was obvious, to him at least as he was looking for the evidence quite hard, that two people shared this very intimate place – and rather domestically at that. There was clutter, pillows left on the bed and on the floor, a little bit of this and that which made it seem lived in and enjoyed. His heart fluttered and that told him he had waited enough.

Unsurprisingly, when he turned on the heel of his foot, Ryoken was no longer at the bottom of the hallway. So, he wandered through and as Yusaku did, the scent of sizzling beef grew slightly stronger. Easily enough, he found the kitchen and was greeted with the scene of Spectre straining rice and Ryoken watching from the breakfast.

“And here is our guest of honour now.” Ryoken said, far too facetiously for Yusaku’s liking but he took it well regardless because that is the type of person Ryoken was.

“Yep. Here I am.” Yusaku replied, he let his fingers ghost along the marble countertop as he drew in closer.

Yusaku stood by Ryoken, not sitting down but Ryoken didn’t mind. He lifted himself up slightly and pecked Yusaku’s cheek.

Spectre finished his chore and allowed the rice to sit as it was. He moved away from the rice cooker and he looked like he wanted to say something. His mouth widened and then his jaw twitched. His mouth snapped shut and he looked rather alarmed and that quickly gave way to embarrassment. So, instead, he grimaced.

“Oh dear…” Ryoken murmured.

Spectre seemed to recover from whatever his faux pas was as he placed his hand on Yusaku’s lower back whilst he pecked his other cheek. Yusaku smiled.

“Thanks. It’s good to be over.” Yusaku said. “I’ve been looking forward to dinner since the moment Ryoken rang… Which reminds me, did you send Earth on a date with Aqua tonight? Because I did the same thing with Ai.”

“Yes, Earth is currently with Miss Sugisaki, at the moment.” Ryoken piped up.

Yusaku turned away from Spectre and was visibly miffed, “That was a question for Spectre, not you.”

“Er yes, about that, a fun fact about Spectre…” Ryoken began. “He has selective mutism.”

“What, no he doesn’t? He talks all the time.”

Spectre rolled his eyes and moved on from hanging around Yusaku. He visited the pan on the stove and looked over the beef inside it.

“When was the last time you heard him speak then?” Ryoken asked. “And, for the record Spectre, I’m incredibly sorry to do this for you but I guess it’s never come up before.”

“He talks over the phone once in a while and I think the last time we had a face to face conversation was in the Link VRAINS when we were helping the Ignis repurpose part of it…” Yusaku said.

“And there you go.” Ryoken said with a flourish of a hand gesture. “Though, I’ll admit, neither of us were expecting that it would kick in, but I’m not surprised. He could only whisper to me for the first few weeks of living with me and he flat out refused to talk to the Assistants for at least three months. Though, refusal did turn into inability and it took another few months before he could speak at a normal volume with them.”

Yusaku blinked. He glanced back towards Spectre who seemed like a rather tight bundle of self-loathing nerves right now if the way his eyes hardened and the way his hackles rose were any indication.

“I see.” Yusaku murmured, feeling awkward. Maybe even a little bit bad or guilty about the whole situation.

Ryoken shrugged, wilfully oblivious to the tension between his two partners. “Whatever the case, these sorts of things take time and I’m sure everything will be alright in the end. Let’s just enjoy ourselves tonight.”

“Yeah.” Yusaku said, his voice going up a notch in volume on accident.

Spectre nodded in agreement and moved the pot of rice from the sink where he had been draining it to the cover on the counter.

“I take it that means you’re ready to serve?” Yusaku asked, his eyes brightening and giving away his gluttony.

Spectre nodded again.

“Do you need any help to dish up...?” Yusaku asked.

Ryoken reached out and patted Yusaku’s shoulder. The pat turned to a grip and half a tug, “He normally brings it out to the table, obviously we don’t eat until he’s sat down as well.”

“Yeah, that makes sense.” Yusaku murmured.

He let Ryoken drag him away from the pristine, minimalist inspired kitchen and to the conjoined living room, just over the breakfast bar. Here, Yusaku was seated at a rather gorgeous looking white marble table with stainless steel bars underneath finished some sort of abstract art inspired table runner and a vase of flowers atop it. Yusaku found it interesting that there were more than enough place mats laid out, he wondered if the Lieutenants of Hanoi were here frequently or not.

Ryoken sat adjacent to him on the other side of the table and Yusaku was uncertain as to where Spectre would sit. The idea of him sitting next to Ryoken, leaving Yusaku the odd one out on the other side of the table, made him feel weirdly nervous. It also didn’t help that the vase was kind of obstructing the view, that somehow added to the disjointed atmosphere making Yusaku resent it, at least partially. A shame since the flowers were lovely; lilies and the like, with long anthers and dusted with golden pollen on snow white petals. It looked like it had been sublimely cared for when it was still in the garden or whatever before making its way to the glass vase.

“Do you like the flowers?” Ryoken asked, eyes brimming with pride.

“Yes, they’re very nice.” Yusaku said, his stomach beginning to make demands.

“Spectre grew them in his greenhouse. He’ll probably show it to you later and if he doesn’t, I’ll make him.” Ryoken said.

“Thank you.” Yusaku said.

The mention of Spectre appeared to have summoned him, not that Yusaku noticed him first but rather the scent of the food which he had brought over from the kitchen. It was strange, he moved silently. Yusaku hadn’t even heard the click of his dress shoes on the tiling underfoot, he had certainly noticed his own footsteps and even Ryoken’s in this place.

Spectre sat a plate down in front of Yusaku and flashed him a saccharine smile. He then drifted over to the other side of the table and gave Ryoken his plate and then finally, he set his own place mat and sat down next to Ryoken like Yusaku had half feared and half suspected that he would. His lips were pursed as he put his hands together to say grace but the only person with words who thanked him for his hard efforts in the kitchen was Ryoken. His was the only voice to have tumbled out. Yusaku merely felt too awkward to speak.

Ryoken chuckled when he finished his courtesy, “Cat got your tongue as well now, Yusaku?” he asked, teasing.

“Yeah.” Yusaku admitted, blushing.

Ryoken seemed smarmy to hear that he as he started to eat his own meal. Yusaku glanced at Spectre’s plate and he had already started to eat as well. And so Yusaku’s eyes returned to where they belonged: directly in front of him at his own food and he started to salivate immediately. His eyes had definitely gotten bigger when he started to look over the glazed meat and the pretty rice, and Ryoken definitely noticed, Yusaku thought in his peripheries, because he looked too delectably fond to have just been thinking about himself.

Yusaku, almost shyly, began to eat his meal. At school, he hated the possibility of even being glimpsed eating, so he often took his lunch to the rooftop and in dire cases, the bathrooms. He had even been sheepish and ginger the first time Kusanagi had cooked him up something random in the back of his truck as well. It was just his nature, or possibly his nurture, which had him that way but once the first few bites got past his lips, he couldn’t help but wolf it down. Here with these two were no exception; even if he had eaten with Ryoken a couple of times before at Café Nagi.

The black bean beef that Spectre had made to go with the fried rice that Yusaku had requested was superb, in Yusaku’s unrefined opinion. It had a swirl of chili sauce through it, to complement the umami taste to it. The beef chunks were succulent and tender, luxuriantly tasting. But to offset that softness, the shallots were fresh and crunchy, yet again complemented by another mouth feel due to the corn. The long swathes of corn through it was subtly sweet as well, to off put that all saturating taste of the sauce. But it was of a clear and high quality, eating some of it made Yusaku want to eat more of it but admittedly, it was the side dish that he truly had his eyes on since it was more humble and ergo, more to his sorts of taste.

Just like Yusaku had asked, the fried rice beneath the black bean beef had capsicum in it. The cut pieces were a bright and glossy red and he picked them out first to eat, with titbits of rice on it. He popped it in his mouth and he all but immediately tried to scoff down more of his rice. Across from him, Spectre smiled placidly, perhaps even with a tinge of pride. Even if he did think that Yusaku’s manners were atrocious.

“So, I was thinking,” Ryoken began, interrupting the oddly comfortable silence between the three of them, “after dinner, you should show Yusaku your green house. Then, once our stomachs have settled, we can come back inside, have dessert, and then help Yusaku with his homework. Does that sound good?”

Spectre put his knife and fork down, briefly, and he tapped the table, twice, with his index and middle fingers.

“I thought so.” Ryoken said.

Yusaku looked up and his stomach squirmed. He was fairly that wasn’t sign language. That was probably something else that Ryoken and Spectre had long agreed upon as a way of communicating around Spectre’s mutism. For some reason, it made him feel excluded or left out. A reminder that as much as Yusaku had longed for Ryoken for the past ten years, it was all very nebulous compared to the actual companionship that Ryoken and Spectre had fostered in those same ten years.

Ryoken’s eyes flicked up to Yusaku and he seemed to have noticed that, at the very least, Yusaku was thinking some rather stormy thoughts.

“Twice for yes, once for no. Do you think you can remember?” Ryoken said.

“Yeah, too easy.” Yusaku said.

He hazarded a ginger smile before continuing to eat. He, and the other two, finished their meals somewhat soon after that. They piled their plates on another and kept the cutlery close, Yusaku awkwardly made the offer to bring it to the kitchen, where they could put it aside for a bit before going in the dish washer, but Spectre insisted. His insistent glare had been most cutting. Ryoken chuckled to himself, having watched the interaction and found it rather adorable, personally.

With the used plates and cutlery placed beside the sink to be rinsed later, Spectre returned to the dining room promptly where Ryoken and Yusaku had gotten to their feet. Ryoken greeted him once more blithely.

“Are you ready to show Yusaku your garden?” Ryoken asked.

Spectre nodded. There was an elegance to how he smiled, for once, which in turn lit Yusaku’s face up with a smile. He was excited, in his own earnest and muted way, to be shown more around the mansion and particularly brought closer to Spectre’s inner world.

As a group, they meandered out the back door and into the yard. It was a lot darker than Yusaku was expecting outside, but he supposed he had been here for an hour or so now and it had been sunset when he had left his apartment, so it made sense. It still did little to quell the utter wonder he had entering the night as he did. The mansion was high up on a cliff, after all, closer to the stars and away from the vague smog which hung over a lot less of Den City than Yusaku imagined.

There were fairy lights, pale and white, hung on trees outside here and other lights embedded in the ground to illuminate the backyard’s entertaining area, not to mention the fog lights on the back of the mansion as well but it all blended into a strangely ethereal ambience. It was both haunting and distinctly a modern kind of fancy. The grass was still dark, so was the sky and there was a path to a crest or something below to the bottom of the yard, safely away from the cliffs, which was where Spectre’s greenhouse was.

It was a short trip but Yusaku still held onto Ryoken’s hand. Of course, Ryoken had made the first move which surprised Yusaku since he would have thought both hands would have been necessary to communicate or chat with Spectre but sometimes, it felt like they could have entire conversations with just a look exchanged between them. It was excruciatingly intimate. Still, it likely helped that they only made the lightest and airiest of conversation on the way.

Spectre opened up the door and he let Ryoken and Yusaku go in first. He slotted in after them, closing the door behind him and it felt claustrophobic in here. Amazing given how big it looked on the outside. Inside, it was crammed with so much. There was a wet smell clinging to the air, but it was strong without being dank. These plants were watered with much care, Yusaku thought as he not so discretely looked around to try and see everything in the dark.

“Turn a light on or something, Spectre, I don’t think Yusaku can see.” Ryoken said.

The _Of course, sir_ , went without saying but Yusaku could have sworn that he heard it. But he knew that Spectre hadn’t spoken. And in a way that was because it was the fault of his presence being here tonight.

Spectre returned to the frame of the door and found some switch to flick. A light came on overhead, banishing shadows and Yusaku could have sworn that he saw the plants around them sigh contentedly. Unfurl their leaves and reach towards that artificial light source. But his eyes were dazzled, likely playing tricks on him. Still, all around him were beautiful flowers and healthy-looking foliage. The greenhouse simply glistened with how verdant it was.

Spectre drew closer to where Ryoken and Yusaku were standing in the clustered greenhouse, on one of what appeared to be three, winding paths around all his overly stacked shelves and the like, and he fondly touched a few different flowers and the like on his way, Yusaku noticed. It was sweet. Loving. There was this pure look in Spectre’s big blue eyes, and it made Yusaku’s heart flutter. He glanced at Ryoken and he looked absolutely starstruck unto Spectre as well and that made Yusaku’s heart do strange little somersaults.

As unfortunate as it was, Spectre could only point out the little cards he had stuck in various pots and the like to Yusaku. He couldn’t verbally explain his plants or the care that he had put into them but Yusaku didn’t mind. From nonverbal cues alone, and from what little commentary that Ryoken could offer on Spectre’s behalf, Yusaku got the picture. At the bottom line, horticulture and the like wasn’t his speed or scene at all. All he needed to know was right in front of him and that was that it was, however, a passion of Spectre’s, one that he clearly put a lot of time, effort, and love into.

Ryoken licked his lips as they somehow made it back to the front door of the greenhouse, having wandered through its aisles, “Anyone else hungry for dessert?”

Ryoken lifted his hand slightly to prompt Yusaku as they had still been holding hands.

Spectre caught Ryoken’s attention through it and on the shelf by his shoulders, he tapped twice as well as nodded. Both their eyes then flitted to Yusaku who embarrassedly looked away.

“I told you over the phone,” he began, “I’m not really a sweets person but I suppose... just a small slice will be fine.”

That was good enough for Ryoken and Spectre, it seemed. Spectre opened the greenhouse for them, and they milled out and returned inside. The fresh air, Yusaku found, even if it was marred a little bit with pollution from the city around them, was palatable after all that ghastly truly clean air made stuffy from being trapped in the greenhouse. Spectre snickered to himself when he noticed that Yusaku seemed to breathe deeper out here.

Once inside, Spectre beelined for the kitchen whilst Ryoken and Yusaku sat down at the dining room table again. Ryoken sat where he had before and on that token, Yusaku felt obliged to sit in the same spot again. Ryoken propped himself up slightly though, hand on his chin, neck craned so he could see over the breakfast bar. His eyes were slitted, looking forward to dessert.

“I didn’t realise you liked sweets that much.” Yusaku said.

“Only Spectre’s.” Ryoken replied, something of a trill in his voice.

Yusaku was inclined to agree. He was absolutely not a sweets person, savoury all the way with him, but after seeing some of Spectre’s strawberries growing in the greenhouse, he thought that he could be briefly persuaded. And when he saw Spectre bring out a cake in a plastic tray, lid left behind on the kitchen bench, that possibility of persuasion certainly became a lot stronger.

Ryoken wolf whistled. “Thank you, Spectre.”

Spectre set the cake down at the end of the table. He signed, _Thank you_ , and then left so he could got and fetch some plates and cutlery for the cake. Ryoken eyed it eagerly, licking his lips.

“I’d like a fork, Spectre.” Ryoken said, unthinkingly, and close to the top of his lungs so Spectre, who was in the kitchen, could hear him.

“I know, you usually eat cake with one.” Spectre said, casual, also unthinking, then added: “Yusaku, do you have a preference?”

It was only when Yusaku was beckoned into the conversation that they realised the anomaly. They tried not to be too excited, lest it was a fluke, but there was a hopeful brightness in Ryoken’s eyes, clear as day.

“I, um, don’t care either way. But I guess I’ll have a fork, like Ryoken. I don’t want to be troublesome.” Yusaku said.

“Understood.” Spectre replied.

The drawers rattled after that and Yusaku didn’t know why but he felt stung by the fact that he, the guest, was not assured that he would never be troublesome but then again, this was Spectre.

Spectre soon returned with three, small plates, three forks, and a knife to cut the cake with. He separated the plates and gave each one a fork. After that, he began to cut the cake.

“Hm, so what gourmet delight have you baked up for us?” Ryoken drawled.

Spectre opened his mouth and words did not come out as he wished. He made an awkward noise but that was about it. His cheeks, and even his ears, flushed pink as he made an annoyed look.

“Don’t worry about it, Spectre.” Ryoken told him uselessly, a hand reaching out to Spectre’s but not quite making it, so the gesture fell empty as Spectre roughly cut the cake and divided it up into portions.

He didn’t respect that Yusaku had requested a small portion of cake. Instead, he got a nice, fat slice like Ryoken and Spectre himself. Yusaku decided not to mind because he didn’t want to irk Spectre any more than he clearly had, even if it hadn’t been intentional.

Spectre slid a plate to Ryoken and then one to Yusaku. He took his own serving and then sat down next to Ryoken. He stabbed at his cake moodily. And now that he was closer, Ryoken was finally able to take Spectre’s free hand, he stroked it under the table, held it, from what Yusaku could gather from across the table without gawking.

Yusaku poked at his cake. Dinner hadn’t been all that long ago, but he was actually quite hungry again. At the very least, to minimize waste, Yusaku endeavoured to eat all of what he had been given.

Cream and chunks of strawberries were spilling out the side of the sponge cake that Spectre had made. Yusaku scooped up as much as he could with the barbs of the fork; perhaps he should have been bothersome and asked for a spoon, but he managed regardless. He plopped it all in his mouth and it was not the absolutely horrid sugary experience which he had been afraid it would be. Yes, it was sweet, but it was freshly so. It wasn’t cloying and there was substance to the cream, it was heavy, perhaps a touch buttery, and the strawberries were really good too, crisp and juicy, and the cake might’ve melted in Yusaku’s mouth but again, it wasn’t in a bad way. His eyes lit up.

“It’s really good.” Yusaku said before stuffing his mouth with a bit more, obviously favouring the strawberries to any other element of the cake.

Ryoken laughed. “No wonder your base of operations is a hot dog truck. You’re like a stray cat. A bit of food and you’re plied. Anyone could’ve taken you off the streets if they tried.”

“Shut up.” Yusaku snapped, throwing Ryoken a petulant look. Though he felt embarrassed for it a moment later. He looked towards Spectre who seemed to have moved on somewhat. Yusaku’s heartbeat quickened steadily in his chest as he searched for some genuine words to say. “It’s really nice.” There was cream and crumbs on his lips. “Dinner was too. I was too shy to say it but you’re a really good cook, Spectre.”

Ryoken scried Spectre’s reaction for a hint as to whether or not he should step in or not and it seemed that he found his answer because he remained quiet, eating his own piece of cake and deeply appreciative for his partner’s culinary talents.

Spectre smiled a small smile. His lips were plump, and he ate cleanly. Yusaku felt embarrassed about how rather dowdy table manners now but there was a softness to Spectre’s eyes. Gratitude, perhaps. He slowly and carefully set down his fork and then signed something which was lost in translation. All Yusaku saw as a flurry of hands and about it. But Yusaku took it as a good sign. He smiled awkwardly and kept eating.

They ate in silence which surprised Yusaku somewhat. He would have thought that Ryoken might have had a comment or two to share with them but apparently not. Yet, the atmosphere was kind. Cosy, even as they finished up. Once more, Spectre took the initiative to clean up after them all. He stacked plates and returned them to the kitchen, where he doused them water and gave them a preliminary rinse before adding them to the dishwasher, already packed with what he had used to make dinner and dessert with.

Whilst Spectre fluffed about in the kitchen, Ryoken eyed Yusaku. “So, did you still want to be boring and do schoolwork here or do you want watch a movie? Play some board games, even, or something? Whatever you please, really.”

“Just one thing after another with you, huh?” Yusaku mused, struggling to hide a yawn which he rudely didn’t hide behind his hand.

Ryoken shrugged. “I want to spend time with you, is that such a crime?”

“I guess not...” Yusaku murmured. “But yes, I do intend to be boring. I have a lot of catch up to play if I want to graduate with the rest of my peers, I really do not want to remain at high school any longer than necessary.”

“How industrious of you.” Ryoken said and then suggested. “Do you want to move this to the living room? I’m more comfortable doing work there. The kitchen and dining room are zones where Spectre has prohibited work there anyway.”

Yusaku screwed up his face. “What?”

“He doesn’t like that I overwork himself. He might’ve been my aide, but he was rather neutral all things considered towards our work, well, mostly mine.” Ryoken flippantly explained.

“Alright, let’s work elsewhere. I need to grab my things anyway.” Yusaku said.

They got up and went in separate directions. Yusaku grabbed his homework and Ryoken, meanwhile, set up a space for them, and Spectre, to work in the living room. When Yusaku returned, Spectre had as well and somewhere in the kitchen was the distant whirr of a turned-on dish washer. Spectre sat, stowed, under Ryoken’s arm, both of them had their backs against the lounge in a lazy embrace and Yusaku knelt down at the low coffee table with them. It really made Yusaku wish that they could have just stayed in the dining room but whatever. The living room was nice, even if Yusaku found it against his personal tastes, both in terms of working and furnishings.

It was probably the most lavish of all the settings in Ryoken and Spectre’s dwelling. It was all dressed to impress. The living room had a more rustic inspired ambience compared to a lot of the other rooms, with colours like amber and umber incorporated into the otherwise black, white, and monochrome palettes. A chandelier hung above them, and the coffee table was a deep mahogany in colour. The soft lounge was leather and a milky coffee brown.

“So, what are you working on?” Ryoken asked.

“I figured that there was a low chance that we all share the same academic weakness, so I thought I would work on my subjects that I struggle with you two.” Yusaku said.

“Hm, and what might those subjects be?” Ryoken asked, intrigued that even the all mighty Playmaker had his weaknesses, even if it was just academically.

“Literature, mainly.” Yusaku said. “I’m good with numbers, they’re solid. They’re not open to interpretation.”

“Literature was always Spectre’s forte.” Ryoken mused.

Yusaku wasn’t overly surprised to hear that but that was going to complicate things.

“What book are you supposed to do your report on?” Ryoken asked. “I imagine you have a report or essay to do.”

“I do, that’s a little later in the semester. I have a question sheet I’m supposed to do which I think is supposed to gauge whether or not we’ve done the reading.” Yusaku said and he pushed the homework in question closer to Ryoken.

He picked it up and Spectre leaned in. Together, their eyes skimmed the assessment work.

“Have you done the reading?” Ryoken asked whilst Spectre gave a cynical glare.

“Yes, of course. I take my schooling seriously.” Yusaku said, defending himself, something which would have been a bald-faced lie a year ago, but it was true now.

“Then what are you getting stuck on? At the moment, it’s pretty cut and dry...” Ryoken said.

Yusaku was quiet. He knew the answer was that he was being a teensy bit lazy, but he did try to articulate some sort of blockage in his mind which was stopping him from putting his thoughts to paper to answer the various questions. Hearing that, Ryoken figured that Yusaku needed a slight push. A push that he was happy to give whilst Spectre tried to find a copy of the book in question on his phone. From there, they gave Yusaku’s homework a good crack.

It was a process which was easier than Yusaku thought it would be. He thought that it would be difficult since he needed Ryoken to be a liaison between himself and Spectre but to be honest, once Yusaku had someone helpful (not Ai) to verbalise his thoughts to, his work became easier. But many of the prompts and thoughts that Spectre was able to convey to him through Ryoken were helpful as well. He was reading the book as they went along but it was clear to Yusaku that he excelled in the analysis of what Yusaku considered the nebulous such as the feelings of fictional people and why the colour of the curtains could hold significance. Although, Ryoken was no slouch in that department as well. True, he didn’t seem to have the same keenness or mind for it like Spectre, but he was still better at it than Yusaku. So, it made him curious.

When they finally finished, at least to the point where they could all be satisfied, Yusaku couldn’t help but ask: “If you don’t mind me, but what was your schooling like?” Yusaku’s voice half there as he more than pretended to work on the last dredges of his assessment.

“I dropped out when I was sixteen so I could take on more roles at home to care for my father... and, of course, decimate the Ignis...” Ryoken said.

“I’m sorry.” Yusaku said.

“You’re about to be sorrier,” Ryoken teased and he turned his head down to Spectre, kissing the top of his head slightly, “am I allowed to give Yusaku your answer on your behalf?”

Spectre took Ryoken’s hand and tapped it twice with one of his own.

“Spectre didn’t even finish elementary, at least not conventionally. As you probably expect, Spectre was bullied quite relentlessly. Not necessarily harried, although sometimes it would be physical but mostly, he was ignored. Even by the teachers. So, we withdrew him, and the Lieutenants home-schooled him, us both really. So, even though we are dropouts, we our actual education is probably equivalent to university graduates.” Ryoken explained.

“You’re right. I am sorrier for asking.” Yusaku said flatly.

Spectre reached out to Yusaku, across Ryoken, and stroked his hand awkwardly.

“Thank you.” Yusaku said. “But what about you Ryoken? You mentioned Spectre’s social life, but what about yours?”

“Hm, I don’t really remember.” Ryoken said with a sigh. “I was a wallflower. More by design than anything else, I didn’t want to connect with people. I had my mission, my piety and the like. I like to think I was something of an enigma, people would flock to me but I would flake.”

Spectre nodded sombrely in agreement.

Ryoken yawned. “What’s the time, anyone know?”

Spectre tapped Ryoken’s hand twice and then had him look at his phone.

“Wow, it’s later than I thought it would be. I was hoping we could catch a movie or something after this but knowing its almost eleven just killed my attention span.” Ryoken commented.

Yusaku blinked. “Really?” he said.

Spectre nodded.

“It feels earlier...” Yusaku mumbled.

“It’s been that kind of day, I think.” Ryoken said. And then a devilish grin glinted on Ryoken’s face. “So, do you want to join Spectre and I in bed tonight? I know it’s probably impractical in the long-term but as a treat for just tonight, would you like to sleep with us?”

Spectre made a face as well. Yusaku was quite certain it was meant to come across as seductive, with Ryoken’s arm still around him but it came across as creepy instead. But the message was still loud and clear, causing Yusaku to blush.

“That seems a little...” Yusaku murmured.

“If you don’t want to, you can have your pick of guest rooms.” Ryoken said.

“No, I want to.” Yusaku said in a tiny voice. He then got to his feet. “I’m going to wash up, if you don’t mind.”

“Go ahead. We’ll wash up after you then.” Ryoken said with a yawn.

Content, Yusaku nodded and then excused himself. He scurried upstairs to where he knew the master bedroom was and he got changed inside of it, angled away from the floor length mirror on the wall which covered up a rather opulent looking series of wardrobes embedded behind it. He buttoned himself up into his navy-blue cotton pyjamas and hoped that he wasn’t underdressed for the occasion of going to bed and getting some sleep alongside his lovers. Still, it was strangely nerve-wracking, like it should have been titillating but instead was harrowing.

Regardless, it only took him a few seconds to get changed so he grabbed his toothbrush. He took it to the attached ensuite and like he suspected, there was a brand of toothpaste on the vanity which he had never heard of before and decided to help himself. He brushed his teeth quickly as he disliked the taste of mint; this brand in particular being way too strong for his already poor tolerance. But Yusaku was just happy that he remembered to brush his teeth to begin with, the motivation of not wanting to have bad breath or morning breath later, in case kissing were to occur, was surprisingly powerful. At least this once, anyway.

Yusaku spat out the foam and washed his mouth. Rather than dab at his wet face with a hand towel, he just wiped it on the back of his sleeve. It was probably bad etiquette, but he didn’t really care. He was really beginning to feel fatigue, so he just wanted to head to bed so he came back downstairs, or at least that’s what he meant to do before he heard Spectre’s voice split the air with an introductory huff.

“I’m just,” Spectre began, his voice sharp, irate, “irritated with myself.”

Yusaku sat down on the stairs as quietly as he could be. He hoped that Spectre didn’t hear him as he wanted to pretend that he was still getting changed or washing up to give them time to have this conversation. Still, if Ryoken noticed, that wouldn’t be an issue. It was just Spectre whom Yusaku didn’t want to be detected by.

Yusaku swallowed, and he cast his eyes down, hoping that the two of them downstairs could somehow be glimpsed through the clashing angles of the postmodern stairwell. But Yusaku doubted it. After all, if they could be seen, then so could he. Instead, he listened to their terse conversation unfold.

“It’s not your fault.” Ryoken said after a pause; perhaps he had been searching for some better words but had failed.

It was a sentiment Yusaku agreed with. After all, it was his disruptive presence in the house which had caused Spectre to fall back to old ways. It wasn’t Spectre’s fault. It was his.

“I thought I was better than this.” Spectre said.

“Things happen for no reason sometimes. It’s fine; you’re fine.” Ryoken said, trying to be assuring but to Yusaku, it sounded like he was failing in doing so.

“I was looking forward to tonight, since Yusaku finally agreed to come around and have dinner. I wanted to cook for him, and I wanted you to see us getting along... I think that’s the salt in the open wound. I didn’t once think that maybe my mutism would flare up after so long.” Spectre said.

“Yeah, you’ve gotten really good at handling it.” Ryoken said and what he said next, Yusaku could hear a total smirk in it. “I mean, Yusaku was in flat out disbelief earlier.”

Spectre guffawed, pinpricks of tears in his eyes which he rubbed at. “I suppose.”

Still, Yusaku felt guilty. He had been looking forward to tonight as well from the moment that Ryoken had called him up and suggested a date night. He just wished that Spectre could have thanked him more than just his eyes. Yusaku really meant it when he said his cooking was good. He just wished the gratitude hadn’t felt incomplete with Ryoken butting in, interpreting for Spectre when he used his hands to talk.

“Maybe you’ll come good by tomorrow. There’s always a chance. Maybe you just need an adjustment period.” Ryoken said. “And even then, if you need longer or you don’t wake up feeling better, we have all the time in the world for you to get used to Yusaku.”

“I know. It just doesn’t take the sting away.” Spectre said, defeated.

Yusaku mulled over what Ryoken had said earlier when Yusaku had first arrived for his sleepover with them.

Ryoken was the exception to the rule, it not only seemed but was. He had mentioned on Spectre’s behalf that it had taken Spectre weeks to learn to whisper to their Lieutenants and months to talk to them normally. Meanwhile, he had just clicked with Ryoken, from the get-go, communication between them as children hadn’t been stifled; especially not like this. It made Yusaku feel almost jealous. He had always yearned to reunite with Ryoken, and he had always desired to meet the other Victims of the Incident. Perhaps if things had fallen into place a little sooner then things could have been different, but Yusaku cut himself off there. After all, if things had fallen into place a little sooner, things would have been very different. For one worst case scenario, it could have meant that he and Ai would have never met, and he disliked that thought immensely. He always scolded himself when he got wistful for impossible things like that...

Yusaku swallowed a sigh as he carefully got up again. He was lingering too long; eavesdropping on a conversation which was only making his guts twist and knot with guilt. He finally descended down the stairwell, but he didn’t really make it to the bottom. A step or two above it but not the very bottom.

“I’m back.” He said. “And I’m tired, too. I want to go to bed.”

Ryoken glanced at Spectre and then dismissed his own thought before even trying to process if Spectre had anything to convey.

“We’re tired too.” he said. His voice was soft. “Do you have a preference where you sleep, Yusaku?”

“Um, not really? No? Wait, maybe? I’m not sure.” Yusaku second guessed himself.

Spectre huffed and signed something to Ryoken. Not even attempting to try and speak after how garbled it came out at dessert, it seemed.

Ryoken got up and Spectre was quick to follow. “We’ll be up there in a minute.”

“Okay.” Yusaku said.

He took that as his permission to return upstairs. Of course, Ryoken and Spectre weren’t that far behind him. He pushed himself aside so they could pass by him to get out of their day clothes. He remained outside whilst he got changed, standing awkwardly and the door was open. Yusaku was too shy and awkward and gangly to be inside with them, no matter how Ryoken beckoned until he finally had to stick his head out the doorframe to prove that he and Spectre were, in fact, clothed.

And Yusaku had indeed been right. He was underdressed in his tacky, almost cardboard stiff pyjamas when they were wearing something very nice as well matching. That was a pair of silk pyjamas, with a breast pocket and various embroideries on the cuffs and other accents, each. Ryoken was in mint green and Spectre was in pastel pink. Yusaku was very much the odd one out in terms of colour schemes in his navy blue.

Regardless, with the fact that they Ryoken and Spectre were dressed proven, Yusaku came into the master bedroom with them. When he had come here before, he thought the bed was ginormous. Enough for upwards of three people, even. The sheets and doona cover looked pristine, as though they had just come out of the packaging and from some elegant store’s shelves. Above the headboard was some monochromatic clash of colours on a canvas but there were a few books on the nightstands beside the bed as well as analogue clocks. Altogether, the master bedroom had felt so spacious and even empty before. Impersonal, too but all that had changed now that three people were here. And another three if you counted the doppelgangers in the mirror. Yusaku glanced at those rippling figures in the glass. He found it unsettling.

“Do you mind if we closed these up?” Yusaku asked, vaguely gesturing the mirrors.

“Of course,” Ryoken said and then prompted their other companion for the favour, “Spectre?”

Spectre put his hand on his heart and bowed. He closed the mirrors up on their sliding doors on behalf of Yusaku. He gave a small smile.

“Thanks.” Yusaku said.

Ryoken sat down on the edge of the bed, on the far side, so he hefted a leg up so he could better twist around to address his partners on the other side of the bed to him.

“I normally sleep here, Yusaku, is that okay?” Ryoken asked. “Spectre normally takes the side closer to the door.”

“Yeah, that’s fine.” Yusaku said, sounding like there was a lump in his throat. But his brows twinged, he looked towards Spectre. “Actually, I don’t want to be in the middle, I would rather be on the edge in case I want to slip out... I don’t mean to be rude but the thought of being trapped between you both, even if it’s just because I need to get up and take a piss, makes me feel claustrophobic.”

Spectre made a sympathetic face.

“Aw, yay,” Ryoken said, saccharine, “I get to cuddle Spectre. He doesn’t look it, but he’s very cuddly.”

Spectre’s cheeks flushed but there was a discrete glimmer of pride in his eyes.

“So perhaps you should be warned of that Yusaku, since you don’t seem so cuddly, but I could be wrong.” Ryoken added.

Yusaku wasn’t sure what to reply to that so he all but bluntly replied, “Duly noted.” He glanced towards the doorframe, close to where the light switch was. “Should I get the lights?”

“If you don’t mind.” Ryoken shrugged.

“I don’t.”

Yusaku deftly avoided Spectre as he went towards the light switch and Spectre climbed into bed. It moved slightly as he and Ryoken inched towards each other. Yusaku flipped the switch and darkness enveloped the whole room. The whole mansion even. Yusaku took a breath and he joined his partners in bed, once he cautiously stumbled closer to them, stubbing his toe on the bed’s legs in the process and only then, did he slip in under the covers with them.

It was warm there. Yusaku didn’t dislike that. That warmth made him feel giddy. He didn’t necessarily dislike that either.

He was fairly certain that Ryoken had cuddled into Spectre’s right side. The bed shifted just a tiny bit and a sigh followed. Ryoken’s. And it was rather content sounding. Yusaku’s lips twitched, a faint smile, and he tried to close his eyes. He didn’t know why, and this was highly uncharacteristic of himself, he had to admit, but suddenly he was begging himself to have thousands of conversations with Ryoken and Spectre. A strong desire to talk burned in the back of his throat and whilst Yusaku couldn’t, refused, to dislodge all those words making a blockage in his mouth, he could dislodge some.

“I really enjoyed tonight.” he whispered.

“That’s wonderful to hear, Yusaku.” Ryoken murmured.

Spectre grunted sleepily in agreement. Under the covers, he took both Yusaku’s hand but Ryoken’s as well.

With that, Yusaku couldn’t think of another appropriate thing to say so he was satisfied. He closed his eyes, slowed his breathing, and interlocked his fingers with Spectre’s a touch more strongly than before. Though, he did wish, at least briefly, that he could be touching Ryoken as well; holding his hand as well but at the same time. The idea of that much contact was far too much for Yusaku, terrifying him but somehow, he did sleep easy regardless. After all, the bed was warm, and the bed was soft.

He slept dreamlessly. Just in total and pitch blackness. That’s how he liked it. Even with two other people next to him, he wasn’t disturbed once. It seemed that neither of them snored or wriggled to much; how lucky. And as such, Yusaku was the first to wake. To his muted surprise, it was morning.

Morning light filtered through the billowy, opaque curtains on the other side of the room. He had to squint through it. It was brighter than he thought it would be. The bed was heavy and now incredibly warm. Even suffocatingly so yet that made Yusaku want to stay. Not leave. He shifted slightly and he caught sight of the clock hands beside him. Another palatable surprise. It was actually a stereotypically reasonable time to be up on a Sunday; just before eight o’clock. He sighed to himself and he glanced at the other two beside him. He wondered if they would wake up soon.

It appeared that just having the mere thought would cause it to become reality. Spectre shifted slightly, twinging, waking, and Yusaku stilled himself. Spectre rolled over to his right so that he could bother Ryoken. He kissed Ryoken awake. Ryoken groaned and grumbled.

“Good morning, my dearest.” Spectre murmured.

Yusaku held his breath. He didn’t want Spectre to detect him lest that his presence disrupted him, and he wouldn’t be able to speak at all. Yusaku’s stomach knotted. But it was in vain.

Spectre turned over, his hands ghosting along Yusaku’s arm, heavy but suddenly spritzed with pins and needles, and he kissed Yusaku’s cheek.

“Good morning, petal.” Spectre murmured in his ear and kissed him again for good measure.

Yusaku’s face went pink. He smiled to himself. He had never been called a pet name before, let alone by Spectre. His stomach knotted again but this time for good reason. With giddiness.

“Morning.” he said, in his mind offering that meagre greeting to both Spectre and Ryoken.

“What do you two want for breakfast?” Spectre asked as he breathed deeply, flat on his back and facing the ceiling.

“I want cake.” Ryoken said.

Yusaku suppressed a giggle. “I want cake as well.”

Yusaku peeked towards Spectre. He seemed highly unimpressed with such frivolous replies, but it had been a lovely strawberry sponge cake. He sighed. Surrendering to their pressure.

“Cake for breakfast it is then, my darlings.” Spectre murmured.

He also tapped twice on both Ryoken and Yusaku’s hands, under the cover, by his sides, for emphasis in addition to what he had said as his voice was just a whisper and Yusaku didn’t imagine that it would be any louder any time soon but on the interim, cake for breakfast sounded very indulgent and rather splendid.


End file.
